Suddenly, clean and neat seemed boring as hell.
“Let’s have breakfast and then get that little box of yours fixed up.” He took out two bowls from the cabinet.
“Hey, don’t knock it.” Mason grabbed the granola, poured himself a heaping serving, and added milk. “It might be small, but it’s what brought us together.” He smiled around the spoon in his mouth, and Jude blinked.
Who knew under that gleaming smile and all that hair beat the heart of a romantic? Over the years, whenever Doug had mentioned Mason, Jude had imagined him as someone who lived free of entanglements, moving from one man to another. The visits home when Jude had briefly seen Mason hadn’t shed any light on his life further than the exotic locales he visited. Now, the more time he spent with Mason, the more Jude realized he had no idea who Mason Reiner was at all, but he sure as hell was enjoying the journey of discovery.
“Well, then I owe your real-estate broker a drink. Even if he is a dick.”
Mason stopped chewing. “Griffin? He isn’t so bad.”
“Yeah? You tell him you’re seeing someone, and he keeps calling?” Jude snorted, shoved a spoonful of cereal in his mouth, and chomped on it. “Don’t tell me he isn’t into you.”
Jude continued to mull over his dark thoughts and what he’d like to do with the good-looking, overconfident Griffin Wilder. Visions of dangling the man off the side of the Brooklyn Bridge danced before his eyes.
Mason finished his breakfast and slid his arms around him. “You don’t have to worry. I’m not interested in Griffin Wilder. I like my men more moody and uptight. I’m going to take a shower and get dressed.”
Mason kissed his neck, and Jude waited until he left the room to allow himself a smile.
* * *
They spent the morning at West Elm, ordering Mason a love seat and a club chair, since that would about burst the seams of his studio. Mason also found a tiny round table and two chairs, plus a bunch of kitchen stuff on clearance. When they dropped off the bags, they decided to try out the bed. Jude declared it not half as comfortable as his, and he informed Mason they would be sleeping at his place. Period.
When Mason told him they were heading downtown to the Lower East Side, Jude figured he’d pick one of the trendy little places that had popped up over the past five years as gentrification had hit the area. Personally, Jude mourned the old-fashioned stores and restaurants. Part of the hardscrabble charm of the old streets had been lost for him.
Jude stopped on Rivington Street. “This? This is where you’re taking me?”
“What’s wrong with it?”
Jude glanced up at the big red sign of Economy Candy, the famous retro candy store that stocked everything from his childhood favorites to today’s treats. He’d never been inside.
“It’s a candy store.”
“Look at you, all grown up and reading. Such a big boy.” Mason planted a kiss on his half-open mouth. “They have everything here in one place, and I figured we could research the competition for the Never Too Sweet account.”
Jude gaped. “You’re thinking about work. On a Saturday.”
“In our line of work, I think we always have to be. Spotting trends is one thing; looking for sharp, cutting-edge, innovative packaging and advertising is another.”
“Yeah,” Jude said faintly and allowed Mason to take him by the hand and lead him inside the cramped store filled to the ceiling with every kind of candy imaginable. Walking through the narrow space reminded Jude of his childhood, when he and Ilana would be allowed to go once a week to the corner candy store and pick out whatever they wanted and had the money for.
“See? They have a whole section of natural candies. I’m going to scope it out.” With a brush of his lips to Jude’s, Mason strolled away.
The idea of Serious Mason was hard to wrap his brain around. This was howhelived, not what he expected of others, and especially not of Mason Reiner, former partier.
He wandered around the store, awash in memories of holding Ilana’s hand as they crossed the street, listening to her excited chatter about what candy she’d get. They always brought home something extra for their mother, and he blinked furiously at the stinging in his eyes, recalling how she rarely had the appetite to eat the treats. He’d done what she’d asked of him: made sure Ilana grew up safe and happy.
Red strings dangled in front of him, and he jumped. “What the hell?”
“Don’t you just love them?” Mason held out a bag. “I bought a bunch of stuff. I got some things for Edith too.”
“Aren’t you just the sweetest? And no, thanks.”
“Don’t be a hater just because she loves me.” Mason chewed a string of red licorice and grinned.
“You didn’t get enough from me this morning? What happened to ‘I may never walk again’?”
“And yet here I am.” Mason leaned over, eyes bright. “Walking. So you need to up your game.”
